


Right Here Waiting

by tardisandjam



Series: The Angel's Vessel and the Fourth Langdon [1]
Category: American Horror Story, Supernatural
Genre: AU kind of, F/M, Feels, I Don't Even Know, Vessel Fic, What Was I Thinking?, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 01:24:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tardisandjam/pseuds/tardisandjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody really thinks about what the vessels leave behind: families, friends, lives, hopes, dreams. Sometimes what's lost can be found.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Here Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This went through about four to five edits within two days of writing. Originally it was just a bunch of Samandiriel feels, but then it turned into slight vessel feels, and then it became a little more focused on the two left behind. 
> 
> The tenses may be a little awkward in spots, sorry, but I think I caught most of my stupid mistakes. There's not a lot of cussing but there is some. Rerk. 
> 
> There's a bunch of references to other fandoms in here, so have fun catching those.
> 
> Title is from the song of the same name, which I listened to a lot during the writing of this.

The Winchesters don't think about what happens to those who were vessels often, whether they be angel or demon or whatever the hell's crawling inside a human. It wasn’t ever their problem, and the angels and demons didn’t give a shit what happened to the bodies after. They just saw them as what they knew them as when dealing with them: black eyed bastards and winged dicks, for the most part. There aren’t many that they get along with, anyways. Castiel’s pretty much the only exception to the rule. 

So they don’t think too much on it when Samandiriel dies, they accept Castiel’s explanation and move on with their lives. They’ve seen angels die before and it doesn’t affect them anymore. They hunt. They get tossed in jail. On one especially memorable occasion, Sam manages to get hung upside down by his feet covered in ectoplasm, blood, cow milk, and wool from an alpaca. They’re still not sure how that one happened, but it did. They come by cases upon cases, incident upon incident. 

They don’t talk about Amelia. They don’t talk about Benny. And they sure as hell don’t talk about heaven. Those are all off limits and they know the rules. They talk about cases and shit television and music and make sure that each other is okay. That’s how it’s been for as long as they can really remember. 

\----

There’s a case in Irvine, California that they find by accident. They’d just finished up a case a state over (werewolf in Arizona, if you were curious), and Sam finds it while looking for any weird things. Bodies drained of blood, corpses left in alleyways or out in the open to rot. It seems simple enough, in and out case. Castiel goes with them- he’s been doing that more often, but the boys don’t complain. They still get a kick out of showing him things and watching his reaction. 

(The most recent incident was an episode of Doctor Who- Sam’s idea. It was ‘The Satan Pit’. Castiel’s facial expressions throughout most of it can count among some of the funniest things either Winchester had either seen, barring the Sam incident with the alpaca wool.) 

When they get to Irvine, their first action is to get food- they don’t stop for most of the drive there, and Dean’s stomach sounds like an entire group of very enthusiastic drummers. They pull over at an In and Out and grab burgers before they even do anything. It’s vampires, and hell, haven’t they dealt with a bunch of those? (Sam almost mentions Benny.)

They find a cheap motel two blocks over from the most recent corpse finding and get changed and ready to go, opting to walk over to the crime scene instead of driving the Impala. Rather, Sam suggested walking and Dean pouted. 

The area’s still surrounded in caution tape and swarmed with police officers, one of whom approaches the suited men standing in front. “Can I help you?”

The three each pull out one of their many badges and flash them at the man. “Special Agent Harker, these are my partners. Special Agent Smith,” Dean indicates Sam, “and Special Agent Scott,” he nods at Castiel. 

The officer looks awfully confused for a brief moment. “You guys with the FBI or something?”

“Yeah, we are. Mind if we take a look?” Dean makes to duck under the tape.

“Sure, sure, but we got another of you guys here already. Said that they were assigned to the case, just them. Follow me.” He holds up the tape and lets them through, starting to walk to the crack between two buildings. 

The Winchesters exchange a look. Had another hunter beat them there? Unless it was an actual FBI agent, in which case, the three of them are fucked. 

A cluster of medics and officers bluster past them, the alleyway a hot bed of activity. “They found the body here?” Sam asks professionally. As he does they pass a patch of dried blood and loose hairs- definitely a struggle. 

“Bodies, actually. A second was found further back.” The officer stops a few feet away from a cluster of activity. There are several people kneeling down, but standing medics block their faces from view. “Special Agent Oswald? There are three other guys who say they’re FBI.”

One of those kneeling mutters a few words and shoos the others away, standing. She’s a pretty, slender woman, dirty blonde hair tied back in a sleek, professional ponytail, dark brown eyes that for a moment seem black and put them all on edge. She’s wearing a stiff white dress shirt with a pair of black slacks, and there’s an irritated, unnerved expression on her face as she regards the three. “Really,” she says dryly, stepping towards them with disdain and suspicion in her eyes. “From what I was informed, they were only sending me out on this case.” This she directs towards Sam, who straightens his tie.

“Yeah, well, they thought you might need back up, considering that it’s now four bodies?” he responds coolly. Dean suppresses a small smirk at the petulant look on the woman’s face. 

“Five. There was a second one farther back in the alley.” She turns towards the other officer, who seems to be watching the verbal match intently. “Mind giving me and my associates a few moments here? I’ll fill them in, it’s not a problem for me.” He nods and takes off towards the rest of the group, leaving the four in a standoff. 

“So. Find anything interesting?” Dean moves past her and kneels down by the chalk tracing of the body, taking in the surrounding area. 

“Depends on what you classify interesting as.” She scrutinizes them for a minute, shooting a glance towards the mouth of the alley before looking between them. “You guys hunters?”

The brothers look at each other then at her. “Are you a hunter?”

A small smile breaks out on her face. “I’m not the only one who caught wind of this one, then. You three staying at the motel two blocks over? I can fill you in on everything.” Her tone is lighter and her voice has lost the serious, mature tone it had a minute earlier. When Sam nods she pulls her professional face back on. “Then let’s go.” She starts walking off, the three keeping behind her. 

\---

By some coincidence she’s the girl in the room over, so she disappears and changes into a pair of jeans and a blue polo shirt before they meet up to talk, a sleek laptop under her arm. (Sam’s jealous. His won’t stop freezing and he’s about ready to throw it out a window, but he can’t because they need the stupid machine.) There’re pages of data compiled on her computer. 

She introduces herself as Clara Langdon. Sam tells her that her last name sounds familiar or something, and her face becomes stony and cold. He doesn’t mention it again.  
They spend two days going through the information. Clara’s a competent hunter and one hell of a shot, as they discover when she manages to shoot out the eye of one of the vampires in a drive by. When Dean complements her, she tells them she gets it from her mother with a disgusted scowl on her face, muttering something about a maid and alcohol. 

They spend a night figuring out a game plan and use Sam and Clara as the bait to get the two of them inside. Somehow during the fighting, one of the brothers manages to get knocked out, but they still manage to light the bastards on fire and destroy the nest. It’s Dean who’s drooling unconsciously in the backseat of the Impala as they drive back to the motel, Castiel in back with him. Clara’s fingers drum repeatedly against the door.

“You were pretty awesome out there, Clara.” Sam glances over as he pulls into a parking space.

“Thanks.” She glances at the radio then back out the window, humming along to whatever song’s playing quietly. 

It takes two attempts to try to get the unconscious Winchester out of the car before they give up in frustration, having Castiel transport him straight to the room. Clara tells Sam to go on in and pulls a box of cigarettes out. When he shoots her a questioning glance, she smiles faintly.

“I’m a hunter. I have an easy chance of death here. I might as well enjoy myself. Besides, it’s habit, almost. My mom was a heavy smoker. Pretty sure she still is.”

“You don’t see her?” He watches as she puts the little stick to her lips, lighting it and taking a deep drag, letting the smoke filter through pink lips in wisps of white. 

“Hell no. She’s a bitch.” She pulls the cigarette away for a moment. “I used to, sometimes. She owns the house next door to me.”

“You don’t live out of your car?” There’s a bit of surprise on Sam’s face. Clara seems like the type to be chasing the hunt the way he and Dean did. 

A small, trilling laugh escapes her. “No, I’ve got a place up in LA, actually. Me and my boyfriend do. Well. Used to be the two of us.” 

“Why ‘used to be’?”

Clara stays quiet for a few minutes, brows drawn together in a frown, smoking without looking at him. “He went missing a few months ago.” She sighs and smashes the cigarette beneath her feet. “And that is the end of the personal interview. Goodnight, Sam.” She turns and trots up the steps to her motel room, her door slamming shut loudly behind her.

Sam could’ve sworn that there were tears in her eyes. 

\---

Castiel takes off to do who knows what in the middle of the night. The Winchesters don’t have a case, but they feel more comfortable on the road, so they pack up. In the parking lot they run into Clara again, who tells them she’s heading home to LA on the next train. Something tells Dean to offer her a ride back to LA, and he lies and tells her that they’re heading up that way anyways. He’s pretty sure she sees straight through that, but she accepts and tosses her duffel bag in the trunk of the car. She’s quiet most of the drive back until they ask her for the address, to which she responds “939 Berro Drive” in a soft voice. When next Sam looks back at her, she has headphones on, eyes closed, slumped against the seat. 

Clara wakes up when they exit, still silent. When they pull up outside the house both men’s eyes are wide, and Sam is the one who breaks the quiet.

“Isn’t that the Murder House?” 

Clara lets out a laugh, a real one, as she exits the Impala, moving back to grab her bag. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Dean looks skeptical. “Wait, you live in the Murder House? Isn’t it supposed to be haunted?”

There’s a sad smile on her face. “I wouldn’t really call it haunted. They don’t want to be here, and they rarely bother me. I only really talk to a few of them anyway.” She looks up at one of the windows, where a teenage boy watches them. She raises a hand in greeting and he smiles at her, making a motion for her to hurry up. Clara laughs and nods, shooing him away, and he turns and moves farther back into the house. 

“That your boyfriend?” Sam looks up as well, curious.

“No.” There’s some nervousness in her voice. “My older brother. Tate.” 

“That’s why your last name sounded familiar. Your brother was the one who shot up West-“

“We don’t talk about that.” Clara cuts him off swiftly. “Do you guys want to come inside for a little bit? I can get Moira to make something really quick.”

\---

Clara seems to delight in showing them around the house, introducing them to several of the ghosts inside. Dean seems on edge most of the time, but she reassures him. 

(They find Tate and Violet upstairs in the attic with Beauregard, and Moira’s cleaning the study when they see her. Clara introduces them to Thaddeus in the basement too, but eventually they leave after Nora starts to get upset over the boys gawking at her son. As they move up the steps back into the main house they hear Nora and Charles get into an argument.)

“They won’t bother you, mostly. If they do, just shut your eyes and tell them to go away.” She grins as she reclines on the couch. The house seems loved, homey. Sam notes the presence of a child’s room upstairs.

“You have a kid?”

The blonde laughs and nods. “Yeah. His name’s Sebastian, he’s going to be six in about two weeks. When I go out on a hunt he usually stays here- Tate and Violet typically keep an eye on him, and so does Moira. He’s probably at school right now.” 

Dean places his beer back on the coffee table and stands, a small, sheepish smile on his face. “Mind if I use your bathroom?” Part of him really needs to piss, but the other part of him wants to look around the house some more.

“Go for it.” Clara moves to take a sip of the apple cider she has in a glass. “It’s upstairs.” 

\---

So maybe Dean jumps a little when a sopping wet nurse appears in the tub, but he does what Clara suggested earlier, closes his eyes, and tells her to go away. When he opens his eyes she’s gone and he wonders how Clara manages to even live in this house.

He lingers in the hallway for a few minutes- there are pictures everywhere. Clara’s in many of them, and so is a little blonde boy he assumes is Sebastian. Sebastian doesn’t seem to look like his mother much, besides the dark eyes and nose. Dean can’t help but feel upset over it- he can’t remember what their house in Lawrence was really like. Then again, he was only four when Mary died on the ceiling that night in the nursery.

He stops in front of a picture of Clara, Sebastian, and a man he thinks must be her boyfriend. After a few minutes he determines it has to be her boyfriend- Sebastian has the same smile and face for the most part. The three look like the perfect, happy family, sitting on the grass somewhere. A closer look shows Dean it’s right outside the house. The little blonde boy is tucked comfortably in his father’s lap, a toothy smile revealing missing teeth. Clara is leaning into them, beaming. Her boyfriend has an arm around her shoulders, his cheek resting on her head. There’s something familiar about him.

He just can’t put his finger on it.

\---

Dean wants to bring it up once he gets back down, but he’s interrupted by the sound of the door slamming shut and a blur of a fast moving body shooting past him to plop in Clara’s lap. 

“Hi Mommy!”

Clara laughed and kisses his head gently. “Hello, Seb, how was school?”

Dean sits back down as the boy squirms and answers. “It was good! We had hamburgers for lunch today.” 

“We have guests over. That’s Dean, and that’s Sam. Don’t try to set Thaddeus on them, okay?”

“Okay!” Sebastian pecks his mother’s cheek before dashing off, shouting hi to many of the ghosts as he heads up the stairs. 

Clara laughs weakly. “Sorry about him, he’s energetic.” She stretches. “It’s getting kind of late, you two.”

Sam looks alarmed. “Oh, yeah, we’ll just head out then-“

“No, I meant, do you guys wanna crash here? I don’t mind.” 

\---

Dean ends up not being able to sleep and wanders off into the kitchen, surprised to find Clara there. She’s pale, wrapped in a dark blue night robe, nursing a cup of tea silently.  
“Hey Dean.” 

“Hey.” 

She nods at a kettle. “There’s still tea in there, if you want.”

“Do you still have beer?”

“Top shelf, left side.”

He grabs one and sits across the table from her, watching her silently. “You okay?”

“I just… I haven’t slept well since Alfie disappeared.” Her eyes stray over to a photo leaned against the window, a photo of the small family at Disneyland.

“Alfie?” Dean looks at the photo again, staring at the man’s face. The memory of the auction flashes through his head. No. “Did he… Did he work at some fast food place?”

“Yeah. How’d you know that?”

Dean let out a long exhale, running a hand through his hair, taking a sip of his beer before looking her in the eyes. “I know what happened to him.” He sees her straighten up, her eyes alight. 

“You do? Is he alright?” She’s terrified she already knows the answer to this. 

What does he even say here, does he sweeten it and tell her or be dead honest? He’s pretty sure she’d see through the lie. “Before he disappeared, was he, uh, acting weird?”

A small frown furrows Clara’s brow. “Weird… Well. Yeah, a little bit. Sebastian would tell me that he was being a bit off.”

“Yeah, well, I saw him.” He pushes on- he can see she’s ready to burst into happy tears. “He was a vessel.”

Clara freezes. “What?” She stops and thinks for a minute. “For upstairs or downstairs?”

He can’t help but laugh a little. “Upstairs.”

“Well, that’s alright, then. I think.” Her lip is trembling and he can see her about to cry. This must’ve been what it had been like for Amelia Novak years ago. “He’s doing something good then.”

“He’s…” He shakes his head. “He’s dead.”

Clara stares at him for a moment, the first tear streaking down a pale white cheek. “W-what?” she manages to choke out, shaking in disbelief. She knows that it’s true, that Dean wasn’t lying to her, but she doesn’t want to believe it. “You’re lying…”

“I’m not. There was a demon torturing him, must’ve screwed up the angel’s head too. Sam, Cass, and me, we went to go rescue him.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah. But Cass got him out. Apparently the angel tried to attack him, so he had to kill him in self defense.” He hears a choked sob from the woman. “I’m sorry, Clara.” 

“What…” She can’t bring herself to say it at first. “What happened to his body?”

“Upstairs. I guess they said they wanted to see how badly they got into his head.”

Clara whimpers. “So what, I can’t even give him a proper burial?”

“I guess not.” Dean frowns as she gets up. “Where’re you going?”

She starts out before stopping in the kitchen doorway. “I need to talk to Sebastian. He needs to know that his Daddy isn’t coming home.” There are soft footsteps as she walks away, up the stairs.

Dean stays at the table, staring at his beer. Five minutes later he hears Sebastian scream and he swears that this life is going to drive him into insanity. 

\---

The next morning is quiet, sad. Sebastian won’t speak to anyone, refusing to go to school. Clara doesn’t pester him over it- she picks up a bow and quiver full of arrows from beside the back door and disappears into the backyard. Dean sighs and looks at the photo again, picking it up. 

“Don’t.”

Dean glances over at the little boy. “When was this?”

“Last year. It was my birthday. Daddy worked overtime for three months for us to go. We stayed at the hotel and everything.” Sebastian manages to crack a small smile at the memory. “We went on all the rides.” His face falls. “When me and Daddy went to go get food, he told me he was going to ask Mommy to marry him on Christmas. I had to keep it a secret.” He sniffles and looks down at the omelet Moira’s made him, stabbing it sadly. 

Sam moves to sit down by the boy and simply places a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, you know. It’ll be okay.” He shoots a look at Dean, who gets up and leaves to the backyard.

He finds Clara in the back, a target attached to the side of a gazebo, several of the house ghosts watching her interestedly as she hit another bull’s eye. She gives him only the quickest glance before returning her attention to her target. 

“I still think you’re a great shot.” He leans against the side of the house. 

“Yeah, well, I’d go back inside, okay? I don’t want to accidentally shoot you.” 

“I don’t think you will.”

The ghosts seem to pick up on the tension, all but one disappearing. Tate moves to his sister, hugging her before disappearing as well. 

“Clara-“

“Don’t, okay? If I want to deal with his death in my own way, please let me be.”

“You should be talking to Sam. He lost his girlfriend to demons.”

“Just shut up, alright?” She whirls on him, angry tears streaming down her face. “Just shut up! I don’t want to hear any sympathetic crap right now!” She puts a hand to her mouth to stifle her cries, and Dean hesitates only thirty seconds before going and hugging her, letting her weep into his jacket. 

\---

They leave them later that day. Sometimes they call to check in on her. Clara becomes their researcher and occasional backup. She never brings Sebastian with her- he stays with the ghosts. 

She tells Sam she’s talking to her Mom again. He smiles and tells her that it’s a good thing. She doesn’t really agree but shuts up either way. 

\---

They don’t see each other for a few years, not until April 15th, 2017. Two weeks before they’d gotten a message from Clara asking them if they wanted to pop around for a little bit for Sebastian’s birthday. She tells them that it was Sebastian’s request, that it was just going to be dinner, to bring Castiel. (She seems to have forgiven him enough for what happened with Alfie, though he hasn’t forgiven himself. He hasn’t forgiven himself for the deaths of any of his brothers and sisters. None of those still alive blame him though.) 

Sebastian’s much taller than they remember, the top of his head level with Dean’s shoulder already. He’s loud and inquisitive and constantly asking them about hunts. He rather proudly tells them that he’s honor roll at school and that Clara’s showing him how to shoot. 

Clara herself looks wells enough- little skinnier than they remember, her hair shorter, but she still has all the sass she had years and years ago, when they first met her in the alleyway. She and Moira are cooking in the kitchen with the help of a few other ghosts. 

There’s an older blonde woman and a boy two years older than Sebastian that Clara introduces to them as her mother Constance and nephew Michael. Michael and Sebastian wander off to talk while Constance smokes. (Sam sees where Clara gets it from. He also sees her go through half a carton in that one night.) 

Clara calls them all to dinner and they sit at the long wooden table. Food and stories are passed around, and Dean sees her laugh sometimes, but there’s a broken sound to it. He knows that she’s still hurting. 

Dinner goes well, excluding the fact that Michael flung a blob of mashed potato at his cousin. They carry out a chocolate cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Sebastian!’ on them and sing, and they’re just about to cut it when the doorbell rings. Clara hands her son the knife and takes off towards the door, pulling it open and gasping weakly. 

Alfie looks like a mix of emotions: ashamed, shy, nervous, hopeful. He smiles down at her sheepishly, shrugging. “Am I too late for dinner?”

Clara manages a tortured laugh, splashing him in the face with holy water. “It’s really you.”

“Yeah. Plus, I don’t think I would’ve gotten past the salt at the gates, you kn-“ He lets out a tiny muffled gasp as Clara throws herself onto him, kissing him desperately, crying and shaking and clinging to him like the world’s about to end. (As if that hadn’t been tried and averted before.)

He pulls away and smiles until she slaps him with a crack loud enough for Dean and Sam to both stick their heads out and see what’s going on. Both are greeted with the sight of Clara screaming insults at a very ashamed Alfie. Eventually Sam goes to separate them. 

He ends up with a red cheek too and a lesson learned. 

After a while Clara stops, kisses Alfie’s cheek and drags him over to the cake. Sebastian’s ecstatic as hell the whole night. 

\---

They’re still not sure how he’s back, but Castiel mutters something about vessels being resurrected and they all decide that they really don’t care. 

Clara invites them to stay for a few days and they accept rather unwillingly. (Sebastian begs them to stay- he’s walked in twice on his parents making out rather furiously in the basement. He’s been retreating to the attic more often and he needs the company.) 

At some point Clara rolls out of the office downstairs, still in her chair, coming to a stop in the living room where the men were watching football. “Hey you guys! There’s a case in San Fransisco. Wanna take it?” 

Dean takes a sip of beer and nods. “Sure, what the hell.”

“I’m up for it,” Sam raises his bottle in a toast to her, turning back to the TV.

Alfie grins at her. “Want me to go pack?” Clara nods and gets up, holding a hand out to him. The two smile and move upstairs, Alfie stopping in front of the picture from Sebastian’s birthday. Sam, Dean, Castiel, Michael, Constance, Clara, Sebastian, and Alfie are all beaming. “I think this is my favorite picture.”

“It’s mine too.” Clara leans against him. “One big, happy family.”

“More like dysfunctional.”

“Shut up.” Clara can’t help but tease him. “You better start moving, Alfie, or I’ll have all the fun hunting!”

“Over my dead body!” he yells, chasing her inside with laugh. 

For once everything’s happy. And that’s the way it should be.

**Author's Note:**

> I might end up just like writing more on Alfie and Clara and Sebastian because ugh they are precious. Just a bunch of cute little fics about them or something.


End file.
